I'll Make a Woman Out of You
by ForMyQueen
Summary: Mickie James slaps Ric Flair during an in-ring brawl with the other Knockouts. Flair is livid and about to seriously hurt Mickie. Will a certain someone interfere?


**Rating: M - Femslash, mention of violence and SM tendencies (nothing hardcore - except maybe Mickie! xP)**

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><p><strong>AN: This short fic was inspired by the 10/28/10 Episode of TNA iMPACT!, where the TNA Knockouts got involved in a huge brawl with one another starting backstage, and progressing to the ring. **

**What happened was that, while a bunch of security guards were trying to contain the ladies, Ric Flair made his appearance and entered the ring, in order to stop the fight. However, once he stepped between Mickie James and Tara, he got slapped – first by Tara, then Mickie (twice!). **

**After that, he threatened to "make a woman" out of either of them if they did that again. His threat was mainly directed to Mickie, and although it appeared as if she was contemplating it, she never actually hit Ric Flair again. **

**But, what if she had? How might Flair have reacted then? What might have ensued? Read and find out!**

**P.S.: For those of you who haven't seen this segment, I highly recommend you check it out! So sexy and so much fun!**

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><p>I enjoy playing with Mickie. She makes a very agreeable partner in crime. Ok, scratch that. She's much more than agreeable. She is...simply divine, when it comes to our favorite pastime: brawling. Not only because she's a challenge, but also because of her attitude. She's all for it. The scratches, the punches, the gut kicks. The fun.<p>

It's no secret Mickie and I like each other. A lot. Because, believe me, there is a huge difference between a) engaging in make-believe fights with a woman and winning, and b) engaging in full-blown, nasty beat-up sessions, winning and having her let you spank her afterwards because she's been a bad, bad girl. Now, that's what we call _fun_.

Mickie and I, we derive this sadomasochistic pleasure from rendering each other black and blue. The adrenaline rush is simply amazing. It is the reason we've engaged in yet another session this morning, if only to warm up for what awaits us in the evening, when it will be just the two of us. It is the time for us to unleash the pent-up energy that seems to control our actions day in and day out. It's rough, but that's the way we like it.

Noticing the brawl that's taking place backstage, a few of the other Knockouts decide to join in the fun. Angelina Love launches herself against Madison Rayne, while Sarita tackles her least favorite "gringo", Velvet Sky. We're all taking, as well as giving a beating; there's no other feeling like it. Our fight gradually makes its way to the arena and, eventually, the ring.

This has the makes of a particularly pleasurable morning, up until the moment Ric Flair and Security decide to butt in, hoping to interrupt our activity. None of the other Knockouts remember how and why it all started, but still they brawl right on, following our lead. Everyone with everyone. Stinging punches are being thrown left and right, as we fight like there's no tomorrow.

Flair attempts to separate me and Mickie, and my punch that was intended for her finds him in the chest. As he's ready to return the favor, Mickie slaps him hard on my behalf. She's as protective of me, as I am of her.

"What the hell are you doing? Eh? Get a grip!" Flair shouts, turning red with fury.

But Mickie has built too much momentum already to stop now. For the second time, her open palm lands on Ric Flair's face, to infuriate him even more.

"You ever slap me again, I'll make a woman outta you!" Flair looks furious, and I fear the slightest annoyance might set him off. "Same goes for you!" He says, pointing a finger at me.

I watch on, as Mickie is clearly entertaining the thought of hitting him again, but he sees her. "Ooh! Try it!"

Flair is about as amiable now as a dog that just had a piece of meat snatched from under its snout. For the love of god, Mickie, don't do anything stupid. Please…

And...she slaps him. My little firecracker doesn't take kindly to threats. Flair backhands her with ferocity, and Mickie flies back on the ropes and falls to the mat. Now, if a woman hits another, it's fairly alright. But Flair...well, he's a different story altogether.

I see him kicking her relentlessly, as if to show her how big of a "man" he is. He's going to kill her if I don't do something immediately, and I couldn't bear to sit back and watch. To hell with everything; it is time for me to interfere. Mickie's mine to beat up if I so please, mine alone! Besides...if I let him continue hurting her, he'll ruin her completely for me. You can't very well play with a toy if it's broken, can you? I owe it to the both of us to keep her in a decent state for later.

I get between him and Mickie, pushing him off her with full force. Nobody touches my girl that way, but me. I am not about to let her lie at the mercy of someone who hasn't been granted permission to play.

"If you ever lay a finger on her again..." I let my open threat linger in the air, as I kneel down beside Mickie. My anger gives way to worry when I realize she's out cold. I jump out of the ring, scoop her up in my arms and leave the arena as fast as I can, to the bewilderment of Flair and everyone else in the ring. I'm aware this might expose my 'special' relationship with Mickie, but at this point I don't care in the least.

"That son of a bitch!" I mutter to myself as I carry a limp Mickie backstage and into my locker room. I lay her down on her back onto the carpeted floor, since the bench isn't wide or comfortable enough for anyone to sit, let alone lie injured on.

For the first time, her body is decorated with cuts and bruises that aren't my doing. I resent the sight of it.

Mickie recovers consciousness with a jolt, as she starts choking on blood. I help her sit up and cover her mouth with my hand, so that she can cough it all out. Once her breathing has returned to normal, I slowly remove my hand and stand to retrieve some tissue paper. The sadist in me is terribly attracted to the idea of licking off her blood and saliva, but I resist long enough to wipe my hand clean.

"Oh, Mickie...you really should learn to control your temper. All this, for the sake of a slap. Was it worth it?"

I return to sit down beside her on the floor. I extend my finger to touch a particularly mean bruise, and she winces in pain. I immediately soften my touch and kiss that spot.

"It is, now."

"Is, what?"

"Worth it." She smiles at me, but I can tell she's still in much pain.

"Hey, it will be alright. We won't play today. We'll lay off it for a little while, ok? Just until you're in better shape."

"No, Tara. Actually...I'm somewhat tired of this game..."

"Oh..." I try hard not to let my disappointment seep into the tone of my voice.

She stifles a groan, as the attempt to roll onto her side causes her discomfort. I notice her trying to support her upper body with her elbow, and I slide under her so that she can lean on me instead. I tuck one arm under her chest, while I let the other intertwine with her tresses.

She lifts her head up to face me. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" What else could possibly be as enjoyable as a nice, hard brawl?

"...Kiss me?"

Now, there's a thought. She says it so softly, that her voice is barely audible. She's looking at me with the innocence of a pup, combined with the sexiness of a feline. I don't know what to make of this, though I admit the invitation to sample her lips is ever so enticing. I glide my palm gently over the smooth skin of her abdomen. She feels so incredibly soft and velvety, I am all too reluctant to detach myself from her. So I don't. Instead, I lean down and kiss her like she asked me to, relishing my newfound hobby.

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><p>The End<p> 


End file.
